


The Proper Steps

by neosaiyanangel



Category: Kim Possible (Cartoon)
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Dancing, F/M, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Friendship, Gen, Kind of shippy but not really, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 10:36:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20544758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neosaiyanangel/pseuds/neosaiyanangel
Summary: Kimberly had a problem. Drew had the solution. Poor, dear, stupid Drew told Kimberly as much. And now, because of his big mouth, he's stuck helping her out. This was going to be awkward... A fanfic of a fanfic by 90sDeathGrip, 'She's Got the Fire & He Walks Through It'.





	The Proper Steps

This had to be one of the _stupidest_ things Drew had ever done in his life.

Goodness knows he's had some terrible, horrible, stupid ideas in the past. The giant turkey invasion was up there, as was that incident with the mug and three cows. And don't even get Shego _started_ on his ice palace plot.

But no. Most of those, save for the giant turkey invasion, paled in comparison to what he was doing now. This was… If he'd had any question on his sanity, this would certainly give a decisive mark for off his rocker.

While Drew had literally asked for it, it could have been altogether avoided if that dunce Du had just not been a jerk and actually _thought_about things. That was clearly too much to ask as the previous few day's spoke clearly.

It all started when Betty decided to try another GJ morale event, even after the problems with Gemini attacking the previous few events. Something about proving she was a better boss than her brother. Her brother must have been a terrible boss, not having appreciation events. That was something Drew prided himself on. He'd tried to be a good leader and to get his henchmen to appreciate him. A fat lot of good it had done the mad scientist. Ungrateful wretches ditching out when he'd needed them the most…!

Anyway, she'd decided to have another party. She'd also decided that Will 'No-Running-In-The-Hallway' Du should be in charge of it. Likely only because he was the only one that could wrangle the massive number of his relatives in the organization.

Brilliant move. No wonder WEE was being absolutely crushed by GJ's tactical genius.

Will had managed to rub two brain cells together and realize that he was a bad choice for this, what with his allergy to having fun and being around people. So he did what all successful bureaucrats did: delegated the stupid, time-consuming issue to others. It was just a shame that Will had decided that 'others' should be 'every other person in the North American branch of GJ'. And that they needed to have a meeting on this. All together at the same time.

By some miracle, everyone had managed to fit into the meeting room Will had chosen, which was also the room where they would be having the event. The jerk had let them know that he was foisting the responsibilities onto them but that he had already chosen the event's theme. A stick-in-the-mud like Will had, of course, picked dancing.

Not the freestyle or newer kinds of dancing, because that might actually be fun for some of the younger people. No, Will decided it would be ballroom dancing. Actual formal, structured, organized dancing.

Personally, Drew saw no problem with this kind of event. It was something that he actually knew how to do with a fair bit of panache. He'd almost, _almost_ thanked his mother for that before he had remembered all of the little trips he took to a dumpster because of that skill courtesy of several of his classmates.

The loud groans and jeers the blue man had heard once Will had announced it got the message clear through to both Drew and Will. Whereas Drew acknowledged and understood the ire of the hip young people, Will merely commented that he was their superior, he was still in charge, blah blah blah high and mighty stuff in that annoying better-than-you tone of his.

Will left people to try and divide responsibilities among themselves. Drew hadn't care about the whole thing. It was probably going to end up wrecked again anyway, and it had been lunchtime. He would never give up his favorite meal just so he could argue about what the stupid colors for a lame event would be!

While Drew hadn't been the only one to have that plan, he had been one of the first to snag a table since he hadn't particularly care about what he would eat. Because it was Pizza Day, most of the rest of the bunch had gotten in line to get a slice or three. His own haste was something he regretted once he began to dissect the mystery sandwich he'd snatched off of the line. It had been slimy and pasty, yet with chunks of meat… Had it been ham or turkey? He still had no idea even days later.

While he had distracted by the mystery meal he'd picked out, the rest of the people had broken the meeting and gone to eat too. The lunchroom had ended up more than crowded that day. _Far_ more than crowded since it was barely half the size of the other room. Yet even when all the other tables were full to bursting with some people opting to sit on top of the tables themselves, Drew's table had been devoid of others save for him. Clearly they had been intimidated by his genius, a fact that was made pretty evident by all of the ducking gazes and chatter that he'd been pretty sure was about him.

Drew eventually gathered enough courage to try a bite of his sandwich. At that same moment, his eye had caught a familiar flash of red standing tall in the sea of blue. Looking with wide eyes, he'd seen Kimberly standing awkwardly near the buffet tables, her eyes searching for empty space. He had waved his arms wide above his head, a vine deciding to help by popping out of his sleeve and waving in a lazier pattern.

Relief had flashed on her face when she noticed him. For some reason, he'd been expecting at least a little bit of chagrin or something, but she had clearly just glad to have found somewhere to sit. As she headed over, Drew had noticed that not only had his impromptu move caused the innards of his sandwich to fall out and all over the table, the sandwich that had ended up in his mouth tasted like dried leather that had been rolled in petroleum jelly.

Drew had gagged, dropping the rest of the sandwich and urgently wiping at his tongue with his gloved hands, gloves which he quickly tossed off to try and not get the rubbery taste of them on his tongue as well. That horrible mush went everywhere in his mouth! It gave him shivers just _thinking_ about it! The flavor had invaded like a Mongol army, his taste buds withering and dying from the onslaught and his eyes watering from the terribleness. The stupid R&D division of the interrogation branch had clearly been behind that travesty of a sandwich; nothing but sinister torture-y work could be behind that dish of horror!

Once the flavor had lessened from 'bowel-loosening monster' to 'terrible tinge of taste', Drew had allowed himself a breath as he wiped his eyes clear of tears. When he'd opened them again, he'd been face-to-face –well, more face-two feet-face, but that didn't matter –with a rather concerned-looking Kimberly.

Looking from his face to the mess of meat and goo on the table, she had asked, "Uh, Drew…? Are you okay?"

His eyes had darted from her to several of the tables, most of which had been whistling intently and looking away, and back again. He'd swallowed and regretted it as he'd winced from the flavor rearing its head again. Nevertheless, he'd managed to squeak, "No! Nnnngh, I mean yes! I'm fine!"

Her gaze had turned skeptical at that. "Are you sur—"

"I'm fine!" Drew had insisted louder and harsher than he'd meant to. Instead of recoiling like he'd thought she would, Kimberly had merely blinked and seemed to be considering him. That had made him nervous, making him blather, "The sandwich was horrible and terrible! It was the worst thing I've ever tasted! Ever!"

She'd chuckled as she took in the mess in front of Drew. "Yeah, it does look pretty bad. Was it roast beef, or ham, or…?"

He'd flopped back into his seat, regarding the pile of mush. "I have no idea. I'm not even sure the chef knew."

"Too bad we can't bring our own food," Kim had said as she looked at her own wilting salad.

"Ohhh, yes, that would be great!" Drew had gushed, clasping his hands and looking off into the distance. "I could make some noodles and beef, or, or maybe some soup!" He'd sneered down at the mess in front of him. "Or I could make a sandwich that I could at least identify the contents of."

Kimberly had rolled her eyes and picked at her salad. Feeling that the table would be secure with her on guard, Drew had chanced to go back to the food area and carefully picked out a basic sandwich with nothing but bread and some meat on it. He came back, plopped down in the seat next to Kimberly, and dug into his sandwich.

He hadn't been able to identify the meat for certain. It had felt like ham. The bread had been a little dry but at least that sandwich was edible instead of… Whatever that other thing had been.

A few quiet moments had passed at the table as they both chewed on their respective meals. It probably could have just stayed like that and been fine for Drew. It was just nice to have someone to sit with and not feel awkward being alone, even if the aloneness was because people were intimidated by his intelligence.

Kimberly, however, had found the quiet unsettling as she broke it between bites. "So, uh, what are you doing down in the research lab?"

Blinking owlishly at the unexpected question, he'd swallowed his bite and rubbed his chin. "Well, we've been doing a bit more with tri-lithium crystals…"

Drew had let his thoughts wander as he mindlessly rattled off the generalities of the project he'd been put on, so he couldn't exactly remember what he said. Kimberly had also given some gossip and updates of her own on her progress through training. Again, he couldn't remember what was said, but he did remember that it was rather impressive, even for her. Something about not being a junior anymore. That was a little ridiculous to him as she'd already graduated high school; why would she be a junior again? Unless she was talking about college…

Eventually, though, the talk had turned back to the stupid social thing that Will had forced upon the rest of them. Kimberly's awkward expression and attempts to deflect to a different topic had instantly caught his attention. Damn his intuition!

"Why in the world are you suddenly jumpy about this? You got to be the chairperson in charge or whatever. We _both_ know you'll handle it with flying colors," he'd grumbled good-naturedly. "So what's got you all up in a snit?"

"It's kind of embarrassing…" she'd trailed off, looking away.

"You have seen me in a green speedo making evil pátè with a hairstyle that would have made 80s hair metal bands look twice," Drew had deadpanned. "Can it beat that?"

Kimberly clearly thought hard on it as it had taken her a minute to answer. "No, I guess it can't," she'd eventually admitted.

"So then…?" He'd foolishly motioned with his hand for her to continue her story.

"Well, you remember the last social event…?"

It'd taken him a few seconds to reply. "The one where Gemini invaded and tried to wreck the place with a de-atomizer?"

She'd chuckled and scratched her head. "Yeah… It took forever to clean up all of the useless pieces of brittle metal and stuff. But do you remember what had happened at the end before he busted in?"

If Drew had only remembered, he wouldn't have ended up in the mess he was in now! Instead of rightly veering off the topic, he'd shaken his head.

"It ended up on one of those old-school classical pieces." Kimberly had gotten nervous again. "Like, everyone had paired off and gotten together to dance, and… And…" An uncharacteristic growl of frustration had erupted from the redhead. "And I had no idea what to do!"

Drew'd blinked. "What?" The idea had been, and still was, rather preposterous. He'd had trouble even understanding what the woman that could do anything had meant.

"That formal dancing, with structure and a right way and a wrong way to do it… I don't know how to do it!" she'd quietly wailed with anguish, an impressive feat to the scientist. Maybe she could teach him how to do that at some point.

It had still earned her a stink eye from him. "Didn't you go to prom and all those other annoying little dances when you were in high school? I would certainly expect you to dance at a _dance_," he'd ended sarcastically.

"Of course I danced! But, but that was _completely_ different than _that_ kind of dance," Kimberly had defended. "It was more energetic and free-flowing. _That_ kind of dance… Isn't." She'd ducked her head. "And now I'm the chair of the planning committee! How can I plan this to be perfect if I don't have any idea how to dance like that?"

"I'm still finding it hard to believe that you can't do any type of ballroom dance," Drew had said with a snort. "Even _I_ can ballroom dance!"

"Really?" The hopeful note that had been in her voice should have lit up warning bells in his head. Instead, it made him start gushing on his dancing abilities, especially his tangoing skills. He may have, erm, exaggerated a little, but he was still capable of being a perfectly competent ballroom dancer when it was called for.

And then he made his critical error.

"If you want, I could teach you how to dance like that some time?" he'd stupidly both boasted and asked without considering the consequences.

"Like before next week?" she'd queried.

"Yes, sure, before next week." Drew hadn't even thought about the words before he had said them with a nod. His eyes had shot open in shock. That was—There was no way—Why would she—? But before he could correct it, before he could retract the offer, before he could even gather his scrambled thoughts, she busted out a smile wider than he'd ever seen on anyone save for himself.

"Thank you, Drew!"

She had grabbed his hand and squeezed it in thanks, and he had gotten distracted by the odd feeling of skin against his own skin. He'd forgotten that he had taken his gloves off to try and save his poor abused tongue. It had been a very, very long time since anyone had touched his skin willingly, intentionally, and non-painfully. Her hand had been both pleasantly warm and soft, a sufficient distraction to his mind while she asked for specific when's and how's.

He'd automatically replied with reasonable times and where's and the how's and whatever he'd asked, his stupid brain mesmerized with flashbacks to before his mad scientist career and those nearly as rare times where people gave him physical affections. Before he could even process it, the date—not a date-date, just the day they would start to do the dancing stuff—was set and all the food was finished off and he had somehow ended up back at his workbench holding his gloves and spacing off.

And that was how Drew ended up where he was now: clearing out the living area in his island lai—_home_, setting up his nearly heirloom phonograph, dusting off his ancient records, and trying to make the place not seem as slobbish as he felt it was. He'd let… Certain things, such as dusting, radioactive waste disposal, and dirty dishes slip since Shego had decided to move out, and he was pretty sure if she were here she would give him an earful.

He was still rather sore with his sidekick-turned-friend for her interruption in his attempt to get help from Stoppable. Drew just wanted to know how to try and get out of it, or deal with it, or what, but as usual she had to be her Shego self and get her grump all over everything, including his little buddy. Shego was being rather hoggy with him, too, as Drew had been unable to reach the boy to get some _actual_ advice beyond being a gentleman.

Being a gentleman… Pah! The blond made it sound like Drew wasn't a gentleman most of the time! Irritating… But… Seeing as it was the only advice the blond had given…

Drew stopped his frenzied, vine-riddled cleaning for a moment as he peeked at his reflection in his giant video screen. A frown looked back out at him as he considered himself. The navy blue pinstripe tuxedo that Shego had insisted he get made custom for that UN conference (the fat lot of good it did him as they didn't finish it in time) fit comfortably on his frame. The black tie was tucked into his shirt just like his mother had taught him when he was younger. He'd even shined his stupid shoes he was so gentlemanly!

**Bzzzzt!**

The outfit wasn't as nice or flashy as that wonderful ensemble that he'd had on when his Diablo plan was enacted. Kimberly might take offense at him wearing that outfit since the last time he'd worn it was when his syntho-son wrecked her prom. Still, it was a shame that he was forced to resort to this lesser outfit.

He brushed the shoulders a little. It stank that Shego wouldn't let him get ones with shoulder pads. Drew had gotten used to having them with his labcoat.

The outfit came with gloves, but he had discarded them for now. They clashed with the tie. Probably. ...in truth, he wasn't sure why he didn't want the gloves. Normally, he loved gloves! They were nice and protective and kept his hands from drying out or falling off from chemicals. He just… Didn't feel like wearing them. Even though he'd asked his buddy for help with trying to handle touching Kimberly and teaching her how to dance, half of which the gloves would help with.

Sometimes, even Drew couldn't believe how weird he was.

**Bzzzzt!**

Ugh! Stupid buzzing! Drew glared around the room, trying to figure out what was making that irritating noise. With his luck, it was probably some kind of small little trinket he made that had fallen in an air duct or something. Maybe Kimberly would find it when she showed up for the lesson.

**Bzzzzt! Bzzzzt! Bzzzzzzzzz-**

It took a few moments of thought and considering for him to realize that that was actually the buzzer for his front door! When in the world was the last time he'd ever heard that? Even those stupid pixie scouts didn't bother to use the door, instead opting to infiltrate through the hidden entrance at the base of the mountain.

**-zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz-**

Drew grit his teeth as he tried desperately to not lose his temper at the noise. Where in the world was his front door? It had been so darn long since _anyone_ had used it that he had to run around just to find the darn thing!

After a few minute's search, he eventually found the darn thing at the end of the hallway next to the video screen. Drew stomped his way down the hall, his grumbling somehow drowning out the annoying buzz.

**-zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt!**

It occurred to him in a distracted way that whoever it was had heard his complaints and had yielded in light of his soon-to-be appearance. But he was far too focused on his annoyance at whoever was bothering him before Kimberly's arrival to even consider who in the world would be bothering him by buzzing his door. He tossed his front door open and provided a response which he felt was appropriate for an interloper.

"**What do you WANT?!**" he yelled almost directly in the face of Kimberly Possible. She stared at him, shock clear on her face and her hair sticking behind her from the force of his yell. Drew blinked a few times as he tried to process the strangely complex idea that Kimberly would use his front door to come in for the dancing lesson instead of bursting in through an air duct or window unannounced.

Looking more closely at her, he realized that his yell had not, in fact, forced her hair back. Instead, it had been pulled up in a strangely complicated bun with small wisps of hair trailing down her face toward her shoulders. Her bare shoulders, as instead of her usual GJ get-up or 'mission' clothes she was wearing a, for lack of a better description, little black dress. It looked familiar, the dress evoking a mild sting of terror for a fraction of a second. He just couldn't place where he'd seen it before.

They both stood there, apparently stunned. Drew wasn't sure what was so shocking about his appearance beyond yelling right in her face, something she really should have gotten used to from their arching days, when a thick piece of plant fell into his sight. It took him a moment to realize that the ugly, gnarled, and thorny thing was one of _his_, and he noticed that he was surrounded by several that had crawled their way out of his neckline and sleeves to flail menacingly at whoever was agitating him. Combine that with his usual flair for evil…

Drew coughed, chagrined, as he drew the vines back into himself. His clothes were a little rumpled from all of them, but there was no way to fix it without making himself look even more ridiculous than he must have at that moment. He mustered up as much gentlemanliness as he could as he backed away from the doorway and said in what was definitely not a grunt, "Come in, get comfy, all that stuff."

Kimberly paused for a moment before shaking her head and making her way into the lair. He followed behind her, taking some of his frustration out on the door by pulling it shut as hard as he could. Taking a moment, he waited near the end of the hall so he could shake the rumples and creases out of his suit. Be gentlemanly and all that.

"So, Drew, what was with that outburst?" Kimberly asked as he walked back into the main room. She had wandered over to the phonograph and was looking at the various records he had on hand.

"Nnnngh… It was that stupid doorbell! The incessant buzzing was driving me nuts!" he grumbled at her. "Why were you pushing it so much?"

"I wasn't sure if you could hear me. It took you something like eight or ten minutes to answer the door. Get lost in the lab on a private project?"

"No, I forgot where the door was." As she tried to comprehend that thought, he indignantly demanded, "What were you doing using my front door? I figured you'd take the usual route and come through the air duct or something. I wanted you to see if you could figure out what that buzzing was." He paused, blinking. "Oh, right. The buzzing was the doorbell…"

"I only came in the air ducts because I was trying to get the drop on you and Shego whenever you were planning something evil," Kimberly justified. With a mischievous smile, she noted, "Though if I'd known that me using your front door would confuse you so much, I would've tried that _years_ ago!"

"Anyway," Drew growled as Kimberly giggled at his expense, "I do hope you haven't forgotten why you're here in the first place." He huffed, "Though with how you're acting, I'm not so sure I _want_ to help you anymore."

She looked unimpressed. "So you're all dressed up, got that clunky player out, and shoved everything out of the middle of the room just so you could change your mind once I teased you a little?"

His shoulders slumped, but he would still be defiant!

"...maybe."

Or not.

Kimberly shook her head as she picked a record seemingly at random and set it up on the phonograph. For not even knowing what the machine was called, she did a decent job of winding it up and getting the record playing. The song that started was suitable for a tango, the violin and bandoneon mixing together in a pleasant way and echoing around the large room.

"Why are you dressed up anyway?" Kimberly gave him a once-over, for some reason her gaze locking on to his chest for longer than made him comfortable. At least she was aware of her faux pas as she suddenly took a great deal of interest in his shoes.

"Hmph. I was _trying_ to be gentlemanly." Not that it seemed to be helping him deal with this weird situation. Realizing that they were pots and kettles or however that saying went, he countered as he did an exaggerated fake once-over of her, "Well, how about you? Why are _you_all dressed up?"

At that, she suddenly looked strangely uncomfortable. "I, ah, wanted to dress up like I will for the event." Kimberly paused, then asked as she began to read the back of his record, "It does look like something that would work for a work function, right?"

He again considered her outfit. Beyond the slightly too short black dress and the pinned up hair, she had a fair mix of accessories to help break things up. A nice chain bracelet, a thin black belt clearly meant for looks only, a necklace that followed the shape of her collarbone and dipped down to her- Not going there! She's a teenager for crying out loud! And, wait, were those _wedges_ she was wearing?!

"First of all, Kimberly, that necklace is almost _obscene_! I mean," he waved in her general direction, averting his eyes and blushing furiously, "it's directing attention to your, your… Does James know you're wearing something like that?! And your shoes!" A finger pointed accusingly at her feet. "Do you actually expect to _dance_ in those? They look about as stable as me when I'm not taking my medication!"

Drew paused, mouth flapping as he realized what he'd just said. His hands shot to his mouth and covered it, hoping that she had somehow gone deaf from the music.

"I think that I'll do just fine with the shoes I have," Kimberly said, apparently deciding to dismiss his experience dancing and having not noticed his little slip about his private issues. "As for my necklace, wouldn't that sort of thing deal more with my dress?" She looked down, frowning. "My dad didn't say anything about it when I wore it that one night when me and Ron…" Her face scrunched up as she sighed, now obviously upset.

Great. Somehow, Drew had managed to upset her by being all honest about how she looked. No wonder why people said it was better to lie about how women look! And here he'd thought it had just been Shego…

Putting on the best fake smile he could manage, he brightly said, "Well, uh, if James was okay with it, then it's clearly okay for anything else. After all, he is one of the stuffiest people we know! ...besides William and his various cousins, anyway. So your outfit should be just fine!" Drew stretched the corners of his lips as far as they could go. "Juuuuuust fine."

Kimberly looked up from the record cover. She started to say something, but cut herself off as she caught sight of his face. Her eyes went wide for a moment before the cringed and said with a hand over her face, "Drew, are you trying to smile?"

Sweat began to drip down his neck as he tried to hold his face. "Whatever do you mean 'try'? I'm obviously smiling and being super excited for your amazing completely conservative outfit!"

One of her eyebrows raised itself in a rather familiar manner. He wasn't sure it would be a good idea to mention how much she looked like Shego sometimes. She only held it for a few seconds before she shook her head. "You act a lot like Ron sometimes, you know that?"

His eyes wandered around the room, seeking some sort of explanation for her comment and wondering on the coincidence of his thoughts and what she had said, before settling back down on her. "Is that a good thing?" Drew queried slowly.

"Maybe." Why was she suddenly smiling? "Anyway," she put the record down and looked back at him, "you might want to drop the face you're making before it gets stuck like that."

Drew quickly and with mild panic dropped his expression and uttered with horror, "That can actually happen?!"

"Do you want to risk it?" Kimberly tittered.

He was pretty sure she was getting some amusement from his suffering, something he was used to with Shego. Whereas Shego was more vicious, though, Kimberly seemed to just be amused in a harmless way.

Now that he thought about it, this was the first time himself and Kimberly were spending time together without Shego, Stoppable, or any super annoying people around. They'd actually skipped bowling yesterday, an oddity, but Shego was rather _insistent_ that they skip their usual night. That actually irritated Drew all the more as he'd given up his karaoke nights just so Shego would stop being such a persnickety jerk about being stuck doing something she didn't like! It made him regret being so generous as to allow his usual plans to go down the drain.

Anyway, this was the first time and it was not quite as big of a disaster so far as it could have been. Except…

Drew coughed as the music died down. He awkwardly walked over and began rewinding and starting the phonograph again as he muttered, "We, erm, still need to do the lesson thing. I'm sure your time isn't unlimited, as mine isn't either." That was a lie for him, at least for today. It was in his contract and everything; no chances were taken with his Saturday cartoon rituals!

"Right…" Kimberly said as she took action, snagging his hand and dragging him out into the middle of the room. Again, her hand was warm and soft and very, very distracting. He tripped a couple of times in the few steps they took to get to the middle of the floor. At least he managed to catch himself before she noticed, he was pretty sure.

They both stood there for a few moments before Drew realized she was waiting for him to set things up. Trying not to pay attention to skin touching, he took her hand and flipped it over so their hands were clasped together. He very uncomfortably put his other hand on her middle back.

"I, uh, need you to grab my arm. Hard to dance with only one person following the directions, after all," he noted.

"Like this?" Her hand rested on his upper arm, her grip a bit more loose than it should have been.

"Yes, that's, erm, fine. We'll be taking this a little slowly since you are not only a complete newbie to this, but you are also wearing _inappropriate footwear_ for a new dancer," Drew grumbled, letting himself fall into familiar irritation as a distraction. He positioned his feet appropriately, directing her to do the same, as he said, "Now then, we'll want to start with a five step for now…"

* * *

Drew now had to grudgingly admit that Kimberly really did seem like she could do anything.

The beginnings of the lesson had been pure drudge. Kimberly kept trying to improvise before she even had the buildings blocks in place. After a couple of admonitions from himself, she finally complied and actually began to _listen_. With some focus, she picked it up faster than he had mad science. It wasn't long before they were blazing around the room, adding more complicated steps and dips to the routine than he'd expected to get to.

The two of them stopped, her leg wrapped around his in a dip, as the music died down for the last time that day. Drew belatedly noticed that they had spent the last two hours doing nothing but dancing. Smugly, he noted that Kimberly was breathing just as heavily as him.

"That was great!" Kimberly enthused, cheeks flushed and eyes bright as he pulled her back up to stand.

"Yes it was, wasn't it?" he said with a huge smile. It had been a rather long while since he'd actually put his dancing skills into action, and he was glad that he hadn't actually been all bluster. Not only that, but he'd managed to survive the session without making a fool of himself. It was an all-around success! "Your shoes didn't even get in the way!"

"I told you that it would be fine."

"No you didn't!" Drew protested. "You just completely ignored me on that! I let it slide this time, but," he pointed accusingly at her wedges again, "next time, you will _not_ wear them or I swear I'll borrow one of Shego's more appropriate pairs of shoes and make you wear them instead."

"Noted," she said, stretching her arms. She froze mid-stretch as she noticed the time. "Shoot!" Heaving a sigh, she grumbled "I'm late…" Keys appeared out of nowhere in her hand—_where in the world had she been hiding those?_—and ran for the door. "See you again tomorrow, same time?"

"I, uh, guess?" He said with a shrug, twiddling his fingers while trailing behind her. "I'm not sure why you want to do this again. You pretty much have the tango down pat."

She paused with the door open, one foot already outside. "Well, that was just the tango. There's still waltzing, and the samba… Foxtrot is a ballroom dance too, isn't it?" Drew dumbly nodded. "Great! I'm really looking forward to learning this stuff. That was more fun than I thought it would be. You're a great dance teacher."

The door shut resoundingly behind her. Drew was left staring, finally realizing that he had well and truly gotten himself into a much bigger mess than he had thought it was. There was only one thing he could say to really sum up the situation.

"Oh, doodles."


End file.
